


A Vow Not To Touch

by joanlocked



Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017), Call Me By Your Name - All Media Types, Call Me by Your Name - André Aciman
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-26
Updated: 2018-03-26
Packaged: 2019-04-08 10:39:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14103573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/joanlocked/pseuds/joanlocked
Summary: "I was thinking," Elio sighed, making himself more comfortable in the crook of Oliver's arm. “I was thinking that we could go have a picnic tomorrow.”“A picnic?”“Yeah, by the berm. Would you like that?”





	A Vow Not To Touch

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! Can't believe these two managed in the task to make me write a fanfiction after so many years. The power they have :)
> 
> This is a missing moment inspired by the bit from the book that goes:
> 
>  
> 
> _The picture would remind Oliver of the morning when I first spoke out. Or of the day we rode by the berm pretending not to notice it. **Or of that day we’d decided to picnic there and had vowed not to touch each other, the better to enjoy lying in bed together the same afternoon.**_
> 
>  
> 
> I dwelled on this single line for an unhealthy amount of time and couldn't believe I'd never seen someone make mention of it, so I decided to take the matter into my hands. Plus it's an excuse to write porn, really. Uh.
> 
> Sadly unbetad. I'm a lone wolf in the fandom and I couldn't find anyone willing to proof read it for me. For what it's worth I've read it again and again so many times I couldn't bare the sight of it anymore, lol. I just hope it's not too cringeworthy to native's eyes :)

“I was thinking,” Elio said, voice hoarse for the prolonged silence. 

Oliver turned to him with a questioning look and resumed stroking his bare forearm with the tip of his fingers. They were lying in Elio's bed, which was Oliver's, which was _theirs_ now, both looking at the ceiling, completely naked but for the fine layer of transpiration that covered their bodies.

“I'm listening,” said Oliver when it was clear Elio had no intention to go on unprompted. 

“I was thinking,” Elio sighed, making himself more comfortable in the crook of Oliver's arm. “I was thinking that we could go have a picnic tomorrow.”

“A picnic?”

“Yeah, by the berm. Would you like that?” asked Elio. The moonlit view of his naked body was making it difficult for Oliver to listen to what he was being told, blamed be the ethereal way that only source of light in the room was shaping his lover's limbs and reflecting in his eyes. He looked even younger like that, more beautiful, vulnerable.

“Are you asking me out, Elio?” Oliver laughed softly, spurring Elio to do the same. 

“Maybe. I just love being there with you. It's always been my place, my secret spot, you know... I feel like time stops there. But now I want to share that with you,” he explained, grabbing the hand that had been running up and down his arm and squeezing. “Also, yeah, I guess that could be the closest thing to a date we could ever have here, duh.”

“You're so full of shit. Just say you want to lure me there so you can have your wicked way with me in a public place like the horny kid you are. _Time stops there_ my ass,” Oliver laughed louder this time and tickled Elio's belly playfully, bringing him to breach his serious façade and crack up as well.

“Stop, stop!” yelped Elio trying to muffle his laughter. “And I was thinking of the exact opposite, if you really wanna know. Jerk.”

“What do you mean?” The hand Oliver had used to tickle was now resting on Elio's stomach, caressing dangerously near to his crotch.

“I mean that I don't want us to do anything while we're there. No touching. No kissing. Definitely no sex.” His voice was still breathy from laughing, his body still drowning in the blueish moonlight halo, and despite he was alluding to abstinence, or maybe exactly because of it, Oliver could feel himself get hard again. How ironic.

He raised an eyebrow, dumbfounded. “Why?”

Elio smiled softly. “Imagine how good it'll be to be together afterwards, when we're actually allowed,” he whispered. “We'll enjoy it so much more.”

For a moment, Oliver didn't answer.

“It's a game, play with me,” urged Elio.

“Not to burst your bubble, but we've been playing this game since I first stepped in B.,” He stroked Elio's hair and neck. “Since my very first day here. You goose.”

Elio chuckled. “I know. I kind of miss it sometimes.”

Oliver snorted. “The way you need to spice things up between us like that, you'd think we've been fooling around for twenty years and not a few days. It's heartwarming to know my ways to keep you sexually sated are working such wonders.”

He was feigning outrage and that made Elio resume his freshly extinguished laughter. “You're such an idiot,” Elio breathed, turning on his side abruptly and sticking his leg in between Oliver's, entangling their bodies even closer. He raised a hand to Oliver's chin. 

“Are you sure you can even come through?” Oliver uttered with a playful smile adorning his lips. “You may think I'm the weakest counterpart in this game, but I'm a grown man and I know how to hold back. I don't know whether the same can be said about you. You're the untiring young boy running on perpetual full stamina.”

Elio unsealed his lips to let out an amused breath, and Oliver couldn't help but reaching out and start stroking them just like he did only a few days back at the berm. A few days. It felt like another lifetime.

“You of all people should know I'm very good at not acting on my feelings,” he murmured softly.

Oliver held his gaze in silence.

“You know, it's not tomorrow yet,” Elio offered.

Oliver didn't reply, didn't tease about it being past midnight meaning that, actually, tomorrow was today already, he just grabbed him by the back of his neck, drew Elio to him until he could brush his lips, which he found already open and willing, pushed his tongue through them, flipped their position so he could have Elio on his back, not a single part of his body not touching him, and took great, great care of him for the second time that night.

*

The weather blessed them with a refreshing summer breeze the following day. They were biking to the berm, with Oliver leading the way while Elio followed with slow and considerate pedal strokes in fear of knocking over the generous lunch Mafalda had thoughtfully packed for them.

“Un picnic con Oliver? E come mai?” _Why a picnic with Oliver?_ , she had asked. “Così,” _No reason_ , Elio cut short avoiding Mafalda's inquisitive eyes, which, if he had dared to look into, would've told him _I'm no fool, but I'm gonna play along until you're ready_.

Oliver had already leant Anchise's bike against a tree when Elio finally arrived to destination. He followed Oliver's example and despite the numerous trees which were more than available to serve the purpose of keeping his bike standing, he placed his bike right next to Oliver's, wedging the handlebars.

“Does Mafalda genuinely think we can eat our own weight in sandwiches? Fuck, this must weigh a fucking ton,” Elio complained, making a show of picking up their lunch basket with both hands.

Oliver approached him and took the basket from his hands without the slightest hint of effort. He looked at it and raised an eyebrow in mild sarcasm. “You're adorable,” he said smiling. He took another step forward and placed the picnic basket on the closest bike seat.

Elio snorted. “Not my fault you're twice my weig- what are you doing?” he asked alarmingly when he realized Oliver had no intention to back off. As a matter of fact, he kept pushing forward until he had Elio's back against the hard tree. He caged him in place by leaning both his hands on the tree and locked his gaze with Elio's, whose eyes were instantly shining with the same reflected hunger they were mirrored by. 

“What are you doing?” Elio asked again, softer this time, barely a mutter, as Oliver brought his face to his neck and inhaled, close enough for Elio to feel his damp breath on his pulse but not nearly close enough to touch. He shouldn't have, but he grabbed Oliver's elbows in lack of any other handhold and started trembling. Their game hadn't even started yet and still he was losing miserably. 

“Not off to a good start, I see,” asserted Oliver, slowly withdrawing a hand from the tree trunk so he could peel Elio's shaking fingers off his skin, one hand at a time.

“You shouldn't try and turn me into an exposed live wire, that's a double-edged sword. Careful or it'll backfire,” Elio was looking at him straight in the eyes now, holding his gaze with well feigned self-confidence. Oliver knew it wasn't genuine, for he had not stopped shaking for a single second. They were so close their noses were almost bumping.

“I'll make sure not to hit any trip wire,” promised Oliver as he finally backed off. Elio let out a relieved breath. “Let's go eat, now. I'm starving,” Oliver added in a way more relaxed tone, as if the sexual tension filling the air had suddenly volatilized.

Elio cleared his throat. “Y-yeah, me too,” he mumbled, letting Oliver take care of the heavy basket and settling for carrying the tablecloth. He carefully spread it on the patch of grass of their choice, shadowed by a tree crown that wasn't thick enough to block all the sunlight coming through.

“Wow, okay. It's official, Mafalda thinks we're bottomless pits,” claimed Elio when he started unpacking their lunch. “Three different kinds of sandwiches... _pasta fredda_ , my favorite... boiled eggs... chips, fruits, crostata... we could easily live off all this stuff for an entire week!”

“I don't know about you but I'm really, really hungry,” objected Oliver before snatching a tuna sandwich from Elio's hands. He let their fingers brush deliberately, and Elio felt the sparks the touch emitted as clear as day. Exposed wires.

Oliver knew exactly what he was doing. If he wanted war, war was what he was gonna get, because Elio knew it takes two to play the game. 

“Let me have a bite,” he said slowly, bending over Oliver without waiting for an answer, and although it wasn't strictly necessary, he supported himself on Oliver's arm with a hand, making sure to add the slightest hint of a stroke.

“You're not supposed to touch me, or did I get that all wrong?” Oliver's gaze shifted from Elio's eyes to his hand.

“No, you're right, but this is not sexually charged, so it's allowed,” explained Elio in a mock surprised tone, as if he found Oliver thinking so low of him slightly insulting.

Oliver snorted faintly and brought the sandwich to Elio's mouth. Keeping his eyes on him all throughout, he slowly took a small bite from the spot closest to Oliver's fingers, as if it was the most delicious, making a show of flicking his tongue out, and briefly closing his lips around Oliver's digit.

Oliver had a soft spot for that tongue. He had loved it since the start, since the first glimpses he'd caught of it during their first proper conversation, since the first time he'd seen him sucking on his pencil while he was transcribing music; his fancy for it had only grown bigger the moment Elio disclosed his lips and purposefully stroked his finger with that tongue of his, the moment he licked his lips just before closing the distance between them and kissing him, only to turn into full shaped devotion the first time it licked into his mouth, and then on his cock.

Elio knew that, to some extent, and often used it to his own advantage. 

“Fuck, Elio,” Oliver couldn't help but moan, but he didn't move a muscle. Elio brushed his tongue on Oliver's finger again with the excuse of licking a drop of sauce away and drew back, chewing happily.

“I suppose _that_ wasn't sexually charged either, huh?” asked Oliver in the hope of not looking too flushed.

Elio swallowed. “No, that was. Very much so. Now we're even,” he added, alluding to the stunt Oliver had pulled on him earlier by the tree.

Oliver snorted a laugh and didn't reply. They ate their lunch without further teasing, which did nothing to their mutual desire except hiding it in plain sight; they discussed the book Elio was currently reading, _Cuore di Tenebra_ , which Oliver had read too a few years back, and which he would've gladly borrowed and read again had his italian vocabulary enriched of something more than the word for pendant, _ciondolo_ , in the last few days.

Elio laughed though his mouthful of chips and unconsciously reached for the star of David around his neck. Oliver did the same, placing his hand on top of Elio's and cupping it. He didn't know whether Elio would think that was allowed or not nor he cared. It seemed like he wasn't able to resist his longing for warm skin anymore, not after all the time he'd spent holding back – his breaking point had come and gone leaving little to no space for restraints, which crumbs Oliver had to gather for the excruciating slices of time they didn't spend alone. 

Suddenly, picking from the poor supplies of what was left of his control when there was no real reason to felt nothing short of a criminal act.

That was probably the reason he found himself unable to stop getting closer to Elio's face like he was under the control of an invisible pull of sorts.

“I would kiss you if I could.” Barely a breath on Elio's lips.

Elio was fighting his own battles too, Oliver could feel that from the way his breath came out in shaking puffs, and from the way his eyes looked out of focus for staring at his lips a bit too intensely, and from the way all the skin he was dying to cover with his own was dressed in goosebumps. Oliver could _smell_ the longing, he was sure he would _taste_ it if only he dared to pull out his tongue, but that was, once again, out of question.

“Resist for a while longer, and you can do way more than that,” Elio whispered getting even closer in turn, mouth fully open, without though overstepping any line, as in a tribute to their first kiss.

Oliver didn't last that long. A hour later, once they had cleaned up everything and were heading back to their bikes, he pushed Elio against a tree and, claiming their picnic had come to an end and with that, their game, he tried to steal what would have with no room for doubt been a burning kiss. But Elio would have none of it.

“No, no, no, no,” he managed to turn his head just in time for Oliver to have to settle for his neck instead. “We've been so good, just...” he stuttered while Oliver started peppering his neck with open mouthed kisses, unbothered. “Oliver, please...”

“I want you so bad,” Oliver raised a hand to cup Elio's face and nipped at his neck. “Fuck, Elio... you're...”

“That was kind of the point,” Elio groaned closing his fist in Oliver's shirt, and wisely got himself out of his hold before he could melt in it and surrender.

They looked at each other hungrily and in silence for a few seconds, a silence scratched only by their labored breathing.

“Let's go home now,” Elio panted, and as in an afterthought, he drew Oliver to himself again by the shirt he was still grabbing and licked a long stripe up his salty neck. “So we can get this over with.”

*

They didn't even know how they'd made it to their room. They'd met Mafalda on the way and, despite the urgency, they had to accept she wasn't letting them off the hook unless she was told how they liked the lunch.

“Era tutto squisito, Mafalda, grazie”, _it was all delicious_ , had said Oliver in his heavily accented italian. She had giggled and walked away looking all delighted, and they were free to go.

Until they'd stumbled upon Mrs. Perlman up the stairs. They were already holding hands by then and were forced to separate abruptly. On the spur of the moment, Elio had started scratching his arm and then the back of his neck almost aggressively, as in a childish attempt to shift her attention onto something different from what she might have caught a glimpse of. She had raised an eyebrow, greeted them and asked if everything was alright. If she'd noticed something, she didn't make mention of it. Elio had placed a sweet peck on her cheek and complained about mosquitoes eating him alive, and Annella had just chuckled, ruffled his hair and continued on her way.

Their hands had come together again right away.

Oliver hadn't lost any time shoving Elio up against both the doors separating their room from the hallway when they finally reached their destination. His kisses had been so famished and brutal Elio's feet had almost been lifted off the ground, Oliver's hands grabbing at his ass, one knee pushing up between his thighs. Elio loved being manhandled by such strong arms and getting Oliver's tongue shoved down his throat until he could hardly breathe, loved how his only chance to let in a gulp of air was that split second Oliver would take a pause from the kiss to groan into his mouth when their groins collided just the right side of painful; yet that wasn't enough.

In a handful of minutes he had Oliver naked and sat against the headboard with three lubed fingers in Elio's ass, which were as quickly replaced by his dick. Elio was riding Oliver into the mattress as if it was their last time, fast, hard, good. Oliver's grip on his hips was as painful as Elio's on his shoulders, but neither of them gave that a second thought. If that left bruises, so be it. If people noticed, asked, suspected, realized, so be it.

Oliver let his hands slide down, brushing Elio's unresting back and his ass and his crease and his own cock as it was sliding in and out of him. A loud groan escaped both their lips as Elio stopped for a second to roll his hips, but in that moment they couldn't bring themselves to care about whether someone was roaming around the second floor in hearing distance.

Let them hear. Let them know.

Oliver picked up Elio's hands from his shoulders and lifted them up, squeezed them, pressed them against the wall behind his head. Elio had to pull up slightly so he could keep his balance, and Oliver took the chance to hold him up over his lap and fuck up into his tight heat. The movement made his arms tense impossibly under the stress but it all was rewarded by the blissful state of Elio's eyes and his ragged moans.

“Elio,” Oliver panted directly into his mouth. “I'm not going to las-”

“No!” Elio all but screamed between moans. “No, no, don't you dare, wait for me,” he threatened while slamming himself down on Oliver's cock again and again and again, voice hoarse and eyes clenched shut. “I'm close, so close, going to, almost, alm-oh...”

“Shit, Elio, that's not helping,” Oliver laughed through a moan and raised a hand to Elio's throat, holding on it tight for a brief moment until a glimpse of Elio's tongue attracted it to his mouth on its own accord. He pressed two fingers to Elio's wet lips, meaning to both stroke them and shut him up, aware that dirty talking was not a great idea when he was fighting not to come on the spot, but Elio lost no time in sucking them into his mouth enthusiastically, leading Oliver's plan to backfire in his face.

It was the hottest thing he could think of, seeing Elio sucking at his fingers like candy and feeling the pressure of his body on his dick all the while, so he wouldn't beat himself up too much over being unable to help staring at that sight with burning eyes for a few seconds. When he reluctantly drew back his fingers in the hope of gaining a few more moments of bliss for them both, Elio tried to follow his hand, nipping at his fingers sharply and letting them out of his pouting mouth with a wet pop. Oliver followed with his eyes the trail of spit he left from Elio's chin to his neck to his shoulder.

Elio was so wrapped up and lost in his own pleasure he was barely aware of Oliver's struggle. When he noticed Oliver had stopped meeting his thrusts he tried to make up for it by bouncing on his dick faster, hiding his hands on Oliver's hair and making their mouths crash in a bruising kiss that was more tongue and teeth than lips.

“Fuck, Oliver, that's so good, you're so good,” Elio was flushed, speaking obscenities over and over, but Oliver could tell his thighs were getting sore by the way his grip on his hips loosened and how he started squirming on top on him instead of fully riding him. 

He decided they couldn't hold off any longer.

Oliver brought his mouth to Elio's ear and whispered “Oliver”, the tone dripping with lust, and didn't wait for him to reply before he hooked his hands beneath Elio's knees and threw him backwards, leaving him surprisingly confused and on his back.

Oliver got on his knees and over him again in no time. He got between his legs, grabbed his thighs and slid into him again easy and hard. Elio screamed before he brought a fist to his own mouth and obscenely started nipping on it in a weak attempt to muffle his loud moans.

There was no way Oliver would last much longer now. He bent over and sank his face into Elio's neck and started nipping and sucking. He finally reached for Elio's dick and began stroking him, as Elio started turning from side to side, eyes shut, breath so heavy Oliver could barely hear him moaning “Elio, Elio, Elio, Elio,” in time with each thrust.

“Yes,” Oliver panted on his neck, delivering a particularly delicious thrust that had Elio's eyes fly open. He clutched his legs around Oliver impossibly tight and started babbling a litany of sex soaked pleas. He grabbed Oliver's hair and drew him to his face, making their mouths slam together, their tongues meeting before their lips. “Fuck me, Elio, god, fuck me, oh...” he moaned into Oliver's mouth, the sound collapsing into unintelligible groans as he finally squeezed around Oliver and emptied in his hand. 

Oliver bit Elio's bottom lip as he immediately followed him in his release, his climax ripping through his body so hard he saw white, stiffened, and collapsed on Elio's trembling body.

“F-Fuck,” Elio whimpered after a few long moments of recovering, still waiting for their choked breaths to ease down.

Oliver let out a breathless laugh. “You can say that again.”

Elio loosened his grip on Oliver and started stroking him all over lazily. “Thank you,” he said softly, tucking a dump lock of Oliver's hair behind his ear.

Oliver placed a soothing kiss on his swollen lips. “You won't thank me anymore once the whole household asks you why you've been screaming so loud,” He teased with a proud smirk.

“They'll get a hint anyway when I don't sit down for three days.”

Oliver laughed again. “I'm sorry.”

“Don't.”

“Actually, I'm not. In the slightest. That was amazing.”

Oliver relieved Elio of his weight and rolled beside him, lying on his back.

“That really was. As incredible as every other time.”

“That's because I never want you any less than that.”

Elio held his gaze without replying.

“You're so beautiful,” escaped Oliver's lips in a whisper.

Elio smiled sheepishly.

“Stop right there or I'll let you fuck me again.”

“And we don't want that, I guess.”

Elio straddled him and kissed him deeply again without a second thought.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked it! It would make my day if you cared to spend a moment of your time to leave a comment :)


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